Peace in Our Times
by theUndertakerx
Summary: An explosion of the Animus 2.0 leads to the complete change of the race between Assassins and Templars, and causes Desmond to question his life choices. Prelude of sorts to Impressing Malik! Eventual Altair/Ezio/Desmond
1. Altair

Ten seconds before, Altair Ibn La-Ahad was training the novice Assassins with his friend Malik, safe in the fortress of Masyaf. Five seconds before, he had been clutching at the walls of the highest built monastery in Rome, and just a second before, he found himself on the floor of a hard, rocky room that he was completely unfamiliar with; rubber ropes and rubber plating digging into his skin.

Beside him, an unfamiliar man was crawling to his feet, looking around him with a blade - Altair realized – that was almost identical to his own. He spoke in a different tongue, and dressed strangely, but Altair could not help but notice the plating on his belt, or the hood that covered his eyes. Without having to question it, Altair knew that this man was his brother; an Assassin.

The Syrian rose to his feet almost silently, looking around the room that he was in. It was a vast, high ceiling-ed temple, though it was obviously aged. It's walls were cracked and the metalworking had been rusting for what looked like hundreds of years. Lining the far were were six statues - Altair did not count the one of himself – of Assassins that he had both studied, and knew nothing about.

"Where are we?" Altair spoke in the broken Italian that Malik had forced him to learn when he became the master of Masyaf. He frowned deeply, trying to remember if he had gotten what he said right. "Who are you?"

The man looked over at him, eyes going wide with shock. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head down and folding his arms over his chest. "We are at my home." He spoke in a strange language this time, not Italian, but not one that Altair needed to know to understand. He vaguely registered it as a language that was called English. It had been engrained into the subconscious of his mind when he was learning all that he could from the apple.

"A villa," The apparently Italian man continued on. "In the village of Monteriggioni, it is a place owned by the Auditore family, as far as I know." The other Assassin rose to his feet while he spoke. "I do not understand why it is like this, though..." He added this thought in confusion, looking at the room around them as Altair had. "I don't know why this rope is here, or why this place is so broken. The sanctuary should have been able to survive the attack... it should not have suffered so greatly..."

Altair frowned softly, the scar on his lips tugging the frown up on one side to look more like a grimace. "Who are you, brother?" He repeated his last question when the Italian Assassin did not answer him. "What is your name?"

The Assassin's eyes lit up when Altair called him brother. "My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze, and we are in the place that I have called home for the past ten years of my life... A villa, owned by my uncle."

A sigh fell out of Altair's lips, but his speech was interrupted by the footsteps and voices of others. Altair spun around, noticing – for the first time – that another man lay on the floor, some feet away, next to a crackling and buzzing chair. The thing was strange, but just as Altair was about to approach the man and see if he could get any information out of him, the three voices that he had heard before grew louder and louder until they were perfectly clear, behind him and the man named Ezio.

Three people – two women, one man, and all dressed considerably strangely compared to the two Assassins – came down the steps that led to the inner sanctuary, their voices halting upon seeing the two ancient Assassins standing there, in front of them. The one closest to them, a blond woman, had been saying something about checking on Desmond. Altair guessed that this was the man that was lying on the ground.

As if on cue, that very same man started to stir, a groan falling out of his lips as he sat up into a sitting position, crossing his legs and pressing a hand to the sore spot on the back of his head where he had fallen. The man – presumably Desmond – looked up, and when he saw Altair and Ezio standing there, his face fell into an expression of shock.

"Uh..." The syllable spoken came out flat and toneless. He turned his head toward the three newcomers, his eyes still on the two Assassins. "Are you guys seeing this too? Or am I just bleeding again?"

"No, Desmond..." The male newcomer spoke in a different accent than the others. "No, they are _quite _real..."

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	2. Ezio Auditore da  Oh you get it

**A/N: Bear with me, guys, I promise to get to the good stuff soon. I'm thinking really, really, _really _hard about this, so I'm going to try and clear things up with a little introduction from both of our lovely Assassins. Thank you all for putting up with me. Also! Altair apparently has selective hearing, so things are a bit different now than they were previously. Only a little, though. 3 - M**

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><p>Within ten seconds, Ezio Auditore da Firenze had gone from standing in the empty, cold sanctuary in his uncle's villa, to standing in the very same sanctuary – as cold and dark as ever – but it was broken; the walls were cracked, and stones were falling from the ceiling. All around him, lining the floors and the broken walls, were chords of rubbery rope, technology that he had never seen before, and boxes which he did not remember being there. The place that he was in... somehow... it did not feel like the sanctuary that he had known before. Sure, after the attack from the Borgia it would be like this but... it felt older. Weaker.<p>

Lying on the floor amongst the chords and machines, were two men. The one closest to Ezio, the Assassin recognized as one of the men of the statues that lined the walls of the sanctuary itself. No matter how badly Ezio wanted to tell himself that he was dreaming, he knew it must have been reality. The other man was lying next to a chair of some sorts, and though the thing was smoking and a little bit blackened, he could tell that it was – like the other things around him – a piece of technology of the likes he had never seen. The man on the floor next to the chair looked familiar, even though Ezio knew he had never seen his face before. On his arm was a blade similar to his, in fact, it looked almost exactly like one of his own.

Even though the Italian knew that the man nearest him _had _to be an ally, he wanted to make sure. The other one could have been some sort of Templar in disguise and he would never have known the better. Without even blinking, Ezio switched onto his talent, reeling back slightly from the change in vision.

The world had seemingly turned multiple hues of blue, all but the two unconscious men on the floor. The one that Ezio knew to be an Assassin's identity had been confirmed. He was none other than Altair Ibn La-Ahad; Ezio's instinct and the glowing light-blue, almost white hue of his aura told him so. The other man though, threw Ezio off course. He glowed a familiar shade of gold that told the Italian he was an enemy, a target that he would have to get rid of at some point, but instead of a duller color that was associated with the Templar assassination targets, he shimmered slightly, brighter than Ezio was used to. Like Altair's color and one of his target's colors combined.

Without really thinking about it, Ezio began to approach the other man, tilting his head to the side to further inspect him, drawing out his blades in preparation if he were attacked. "Who might you be...?" The Assassin muttered to himself in his own language, approaching the glowing, golden figure.

Before Ezio had a chance to go further, however, he was stopped by the sound of the Syrian master behind him finally waking. However silently the other man thought he might be, Ezio could – with his currently heightened senses – make out the sound of his feet planting against the floor and his robes falling around him.

"Where are we?" The Syrian asked in broken Italian. "Who are you?" His accent was boorish and thick with his own dialect, but Ezio could not help and smile at his try.

When Ezio turned he could not help but feel humbled by the presence of the man. He was taller than expected, and even though the Italian had seen Altair's face many times before on the statue, it was not the same as this. He bowed his head down, crossed his arm over his chest in salute, and dropped down on his knee in front of the man that changed the way the Assassin order was run. The man in front of him was truly a revolutionist, the only man he knew besides Leonardo da Vinci, who had stared at the Apple for extended periods of time. This man, he knew, was a true Master of the Assassin order.

Ezio opened his mouth to reply, but what came out of his mouth sounded strange. It was English, he knew that much, but he did not know how he knew a language that he had never studied. "We are at my home." He stated, with a little surprise, rising up from his bow. "A villa," He continued, caught off guard by the strange language. "In Monteriggioni, a village just outside of Firenze. It is a place owned by the Auditore family, as far as I know." He added the last note in an uncertain tone. There was no telling how much time had _really _passed in those ten seconds. He glanced around the sanctuary, the frown on his face deepening. "I don't know why this rope is here, or why this place is so broken. The sanctuary should have been able to survive the attack... it should not have suffered so greatly..."

The other Master Assassin's lips tug down in a frown, causing Ezio to finally notice the scar – identical to his own – on the other's lips. It pulled the other side of his face up into an expression that was not so much of a frown as it was a grimace. "Yes, but, who are you, Brother?" The English mixed with Altair's status made Ezio blink in shock – once more – at the term coming from the Syrian's mouth. He had called Ezio _Brother. _As though they were on the same level. Ezio was a great leader, he knew, but to have someone so... powerful as Altair identify him as someone equally matched... it was an honor. "What is your name?"

Ezio had been caught up in his explanation, he knew, and cast his glance down to his boots when he felt the embarrassment of skipping the last part of the inquiry. "My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze, and we are in the place that I have called home for the past ten years of my life... A villa, owned by my uncle."

Altair was about to respond when the sound of three sets of footsteps and three angry voices were heard from up the steps. Ezio watched as Altair spun around, caught sight of the man still lying on the floor, and almost got to interrogate Ezio further, before the three people burst into the sanctuary.

"I don't know, Rebecca," One of the three spoke, the only man in the group, with an accept that Ezio recognized as British. "Maybe because Leonardo da Freaking Vinci is in the Codex room! Why do you _think _we need to check up on Desmon-" The rest of his sentence cut off when a fist landed in his stomach. The very same fist reached out to point at the two Assassins, it's owner – a dark haired woman wearing incredibly strange clothing – fell silent, her mouth hanging open slightly.

"Leonardo da Vinci is the least of our problems, Shaun." The other woman, a polite looking blonde one, spoke next. Her eyes traveled to the man on the floor, and only then did he finally stir.

The man – who Ezio presumed was Desmond – sat up from his place on the ground, crossing his legs and pressing one of his palms to the back of his head. When he made to look at the three newcomers, though, his gaze was caught on the two Assassin's instead. "Uhm..." He turned his head toward his three friends, but kept his eyes on Ezio and Altair. "Are you guys seeing this too? Or it it just a really bad bleed?"

"No, Desmond," The British male spoke again. "No, they are _quite _real."


	3. Desmond, Wake Up!

It felt like Desmond's _everything _hurt. His head was screaming, his limbs wouldn't move and somewhere, in the back of his mind, he vaguely registered that there was a rock digging into his back. Where was he? All he could remember was Lucy, Rebecca, and Shaun telling him that they would be back, that they had to check on something and that he should just stay in the animus and not _do _anything. Simple enough, but – of course – Desmond went and messed that up too.

He – no, _Ezio_ had been speaking with Leonardo when it happened. The two of them were pouring over the Apple just as they had been for the past three hours, and then it all got painful. The light from the Piece of Eden became too bright, Desmond vaguely registered the sound of an explosion, and then everything went dark... He could tell his heart was still beating, he could still smell the sanctuary and hear his own voice but...

No, that voice wasn't his own. It was Ezio's. The damn bleeding had started again, and this time it was making his head hurt. He knew it wasn't himself that was talking though. It was Ezio's voice – accompanied by another familiar voice that Desmond couldn't quite place – he was saying something about the villa... no... the sanctuary. How it shouldn't have been that broken. Broken? The Sanctuary was in perfect condition... unless...

"Leonardo da Vinci is the least of our problems, Shaun..." Lucy's voice confirmed it. Desmond was out of the animus, but he didn't quite understand why, Or why he could hear Ezio while he was disconnected. Something was wrong, and Desmond knew he would have to sit up to be able to clear it up, but the pain in his back and in his head and all over his body made him want to lay there and keep his eyes closed forever.

With a little more effort than he would have normally needed to get himself out of the animus, Desmond sat up with a groan. He put one of his hands against the back of his head, pressing down to relieve himself of the oncoming pressure headache. He let his eyes flutter open, then looked up to search for Lucy, Shaun, and Rebecca, only to find – instead – the two people he never would have thought he would see outside of a reflection in the mirror.

"Uh..." He tilted his head toward his three friends, though kept his eyes on the ancestors that seemed too real to be true. It was a horrible bleed. They were there – real colors, real voices, the fabric of their clothes moved with them and the lighting hadn't gone dark and similar to Eagle Vision each time he opened his eyes. This was a terribly real bleed that frightened and sickened him and he wanted it to be over. No matter how hard he blinked his eyes though, or for how long he kept them closed, Ezio and Altair would not disappear. A frightened shudder wracked through his whole body, making his muscles cringe and everything hurt all over again. "Are you guys seeing this too?" Desmond didn't like to admit it, but his voice cracked with fear and confusion. "Or is this... just... a _really _bad bleed?"

"No, Desmond..." For once, Shaun didn't sound like an asshole. If anything, he was a little bit consoling. Desmond almost wished he was recording the moment. Maybe the camera on the computer was. "They are _quite _real..."

"Real?" Ezio broke in after a moment, his eyebrows furrowing together, looking from Desmond to Shaun. "Of course we are real, why wouldn't we be?" His concentration was broken, however, when there was another clamoring from the steps. He looked over, and relief filled his eyes. "Leonardo!"

Desmond followed his ancestor's gaze to the stairway. His jaw dropped open, eyes popped wide, and his hands fell to the ground. As if seeing his two ancestors wasn't enough, Leonardo da Vinci was stumbling down the steps into the sanctuary.

"Ezio!" The painted cried, landing himself just a little bit in front of Shaun, who – Desmond noted with a smirk – was nearly hyperventilating at the sight of the blond man. "What's happened? Why is the villa like this? Where's the Apple?"

Ezio didn't bother caring about the other people in the room – he went over and put his arms around his friend's shoulders in a hug that he had been meaning to give back for a long time. "I don't know what's happened, but I am glad you are here. Do you remember what I told you, about the image of Minerva I saw in the vault? What I told you about Desmond?" The Italian gestured over at the descendent he didn't even know he had. "It is _him, _Leonardo. _Him._"

The painter's eyes widened when they fell on Desmond. "Is that why-?" He started to ask his friend though he was cut off short by Lucy.

"The Apple doesn't explain anything," She stated, smiling apologetically at Leonardo. "And it certainly doesn't explain to us why the animus... exploded." She gestured to the smoking animus that Desmond realized he had probably been thrown out of.

"Why us, though?" Altair finally spoke up, after having watched the conversation continue from his place slightly away from the crowd. "Why do we have anything to do with this?"

Rebecca looked over to him, speaking as humbly as Desmond had ever seen her speak before. "You see, Desmond here," She gestured to Desmond, who still sat pathetically on the floor of the sanctuary. "Is your descendent. I know it seems hard to grasp, but you've been thrown... a couple hundred odd years into the future, into a time where we've made it so that Desmond can look back into the memories of his ancestors – through his DNA – and get the training and information that we need to stop the Templar order from taking over the world. Again."

Altair, Ezio, and Leonardo shared a look that said neither of them understood.

"So... you two were looking at the Apple when this all happened, right?" Shaun cut in, trying to get down to business more than anything. He looked toward Ezio and Leonardo, managing to finally get over the shock of all of it. "What were you doing?" He looked, now, to Altair, hoping that his information could pull together and string up all of the reasons that they needed.

"I was with Malik." Altair stated, with a shrug. "We were training the novices and looking over the Apple, as well..."

"Wait, wait, wait," Desmond cut in, finally managing to stand up and drop his hands from his head. "If Leonardo showed up with Ezio... does that mean...?" He looked to the stairs, looking for the familiar form of the Jerusalem rafiq to come storming down into the sanctuary, yelling about something or another.

There was no stomping down the steps, but – as if on cue – there was the familiar voice of the angry bureau leader from the floor above them. Altair made a move toward the steps, but Lucy was there in a second, her hands held up in front of him pleadingly.

"Please," She said, looking between him and the stairs. "You have to stay down here. We have to be able to see what brought you here, and if you have radiation from the Apple left on you..." She smiled tentatively at him. "Please, if you could just stay down here. There are plenty of Templars out there that have probably already noticed the explosion and are waiting for something or someone to come out. They know your face. They know _all _of our faces, and they're waiting to strike. Just stay down here, Altair. Please. Desmond will go and get Malik for you."

The Syrian looked down at her, examining the pleading expression on her face before he looked over to Desmond. "Be careful." He muttered to his descendent. "Malik gets angry when anyone else would feel frightened."

Desmond groaned, aggravated that he had been volunteered for something that he didn't want to do. The other times that he had met Malik – even though he was technically seeing through Altair's eyes – he had felt incredibly intimidated. There was no way that he would be able to kick it off well with the one-armed Assassin, especially in times like this. No part of him was looking forward to meeting Malik outside of the safety of the animus. There was no telling what the Syrian would do to him.

With a sigh, Desmond cast his glance over to Shaun and Rebecca for help, but even they stepped away from the stairs, giving him a path to walk and thus throwing him into the lion's den.

"Whatever..." He mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and starting up the steps. "At least I look like Altair..."


End file.
